Abscise these wilted petals before the tree of life admits defeat,
Justify the ignorance of these anguished pleas.
You managed to hear everything else, conjuring up the rest
Until you finally procured enough tainted satisfaction.

Demean my crumbled soul while you retain your soundless sleep.
To you my psyche kneels, a notion quite surreal.

Why won’t you destroy what is yours and ridicule your own disintegration?
Leave me to bear my cross
Stop laughing at my pain.
I beg of myself to stop dwelling.

Then I’ll wake up to my reality, coming soon:
Death of optimism, barren, to a Wasteland near you.

Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidi in ampulla pendere,
et cum illi pueri dicerent:

Sybil, are you not satiated by your fortunate lot?
If I could one day forsake my regrets I could begin to look for peace

What is this life but a deviant game of lottery and excess?
Inevitably, they pass judgment.